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1. Fitness tests and interview is supposed to be part of the pre-attest , that's a fairly constant thing I've been hearing.
2. As for running around the Big Smoke, IMHO a ballhop
About time on the fitness and interviews. Really badly needed, given some of the heads I've seen over the years. Most of them more senior than pte.
Good stuff about point 2. That would kill us more rural units (but still less than 1 hour from a manned location).
I knew a simple soldier boy.....
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
And no one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.
surely they can do fitness tests in Cork, Galway, Athlone, Curragh (there are still barracks there, right?) as well as Dublin? I mean the powers that be could organise that if they wanted to.
If at first you don't succeed, then call in an airstrike.
I knew a simple soldier boy.....
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
And no one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.
I've been hearing some of the details of what is planned - seems some senior PDF people are expecting to wave their magic wands and make it all happen.
Upon reading what is planned, I can only think of 1 thing.
(Don't know if the pic works - at this stage I have given up trying to understand how to attach pics)
I knew a simple soldier boy.....
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
And no one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.
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